


Earthquake

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow and James are getting a lot of quality time with their grandson lately...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earthquake

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2012 when I was eighteen and is now being crossposted here along with all of my other work. I always thought that there was a lot of great chemistry and potential for a relationship between Jefferson and Emma, and I'm sad that it wasn't explored.

There are lots of good things about having a happy, sexually active relationship with your partner. There's the sex, first and foremost, but also all the stuff that comes with it. It helps build intimacy, for one thing, and it's a great way to relieve tension. Still, this couldn't be normal.

Perhaps being celibate--devoid even of solo performances or fantasies--for about thirty-five years had something to do with it? After all, he hadn't had sex since his wife had died, and that had been when Grace was five. Then he'd been stuck in Wonderland, and then there was the whole stuck-in-his-house because of the curse thing… so yeah, maybe all those years of unacknowledged sexual frustration were finally making their way to the surface.

Whatever the reason, Jefferson found himself wanting to jump his girlfriend at least once a day.

Fortunately said girlfriend, one Emma Swan, liked the attention. She'd seen sex as pretty much a physical act all of her life, either discounting or ignoring the emotional part (except for one time when she was eighteen, but let's just pretend that never happened, so seriously, stop asking), and going without it for three years up until now had been, shall we say, annoying. So when she found herself a perfectly willing partner who was not only sexy as hell but had a great libido, well… sounded like Christmas had come early.

Neither of them  _planned_  on actually falling in love. That was entirely a colossal accident. Well, accident on Emma's part. More like a gross oversight on Jefferson's. He'd known from the second he saw her emerge from her yellow VW Bug, peering through his telescope trained onto Main Street, that Emma Swan was special. At first he'd just thought she was special because, well, she was the savior of the Enchanted Forest and the daughter of Snow White and Prince "Charming" James, but once he kidnapped her--big mistake, by the way, that girl could pack a wallop--he realized that's he was special to him personally. How, he didn't know, but that pull he'd felt, like a particularly strong magnet, had to mean something.

Maybe if he'd been a bit more sane he would have realized just what that pull was. In retrospect, it was kind of obvious. Fortunately Emma was as good at denying as he was at not seeing the obvious, otherwise he would have overstepped his bounds and she would've run for the hills. Maybe even literally--you never knew with that woman.

But none of that mattered, because somewhere along the way random hookups to let off steam had sort of bookended with play-dates for their kids until, whadya know, they were kind-of sort-of maybe dating just a little.

Even then, neither realized just how much the other meant until a mission against Regina had gone horribly wrong, the Evil Queen's little 'surprise' blowing up right next to Emma and nearly blowing her to kingdom come. If it weren't for the magic necklace Rumpelstiltskin had given her (long story, don't ask), she would have. Jefferson had been the first to reach her, even before her parents, clutching her to him a little madly and whispering to her. He didn't even realize that he'd said, "I love yo," until Emma scrunched up her eyes and replied,

"I love you too, you idiot, now stop squeezing me to death and help me up."

Ladies and Gentlemen: Emma Swan, the Queen of Sentimentality.

Since then, things had gotten a lot easier. It had been awkward for about thirty seconds but that had quickly dissipated. It didn't make sense--they were the first to acknowledge  _that--_ but it worked, it really did. And as long as they were happy, nobody else seemed to mind. Even Regina seemed more amused than pissed, nearly laughing herself silly when she'd first heard. Emma nearly ran her through with a sword for that.

But seriously, neither of them had any idea how complicated amazing sex could be. They'd had good sex, yes, and they'd had great sex (Emma, twice, and Jefferson, with his wife), but the-house-is-on-fire-and-I-wouldn't-notice kind of sex? Like, divine sex? That was a first. Also a first was realizing that it was very addicting and wanting to do it all the time is a little difficult when you have two ten-year-olds in the house and half of the town is depending on you to make every major decision and solve all of their problems.

It was surprising, too. Jefferson had come home one night (Emma had moved in a couple of weeks ago, a night also known as The Greatest Night of His Life) to find Emma--tough, confident, take-no-shit Emma Swan, defender of the innocent, Sheriff of Storybrooke, warrior princess and all-around pain-in-Regina's-ass--dancing and singing along to Adele's "Right as Rain." She'd even been using a wooden spoon for a microphone as she shimmied around the kitchen, her fuzzy socks making her slip every so often. Was it adorable? Yes. Was it just a little bit dorky? Yup. Was it something extremely surprising to see someone like Emma do? Oh, yes, indeed. But a major turn-on?

Well, apparently, yes.

At least Henry and Grace hadn't complained when they'd ended up ordering take-out pizza for dinner that night.

Eventually, they'd had to face facts and realize that they just weren't at a point in their lives where they could have sex every-which-way and every-which-where at any time they so pleased, and so they'd been reduced to suppressing their urges and doing it when the kids were safely at Snow and James's apartment. The prince had moved in with his wife the second the curse had broken and everyone had stopped spinning around dizzily and hugging and crying and generally freaking out.

So the kids were packed up and shipped off to Grandma and Gramps for the evening twice a week so that Jefferson and Emma could actually do something about the tension buzzing through their systems, setting off sparks every time they got within five feet of each other.

That night was no different.

"Now, remember to be good--Henry, that means no embarrassing questions," Emma said, handing her son his backpack and trusty book of stories, which he had still refused to let out of his sight despite the curse being lifted.

"And Grace, no teasing him about Gretel, okay?" Jefferson whispered to his daughter.

That was another reason letting the kids catch them was a bad idea. A ten-year-old boy with his first crush (which was the size of the town) did  _not_  need to be getting ideas.

"Okay, Mom, I get it." Henry rolled his eyes.

"Snow promised that we could bake something!" Grace said excitedly.

"Have fun!" Emma said, waving as the kids walked the two blocks through ally-controlled territory to the apartment.

As soon as they were out of sight the door was slammed shut and Emma was pushed against it, Jefferson's body crushing her against the smooth wood. The tingling, buzzing sensation that had been plaguing her the past couple of days intensified, threatening to overload her system. She kissed him eagerly, desperately, as if it had been years and not days.

Jefferson's hands slipped beneath her shirt, not even bothering to take the clothes off, pressing his palms into her skin, branding her, searing her. He pushed her bra up, cupping her breasts as they spilled into his eager hands, kneading them and making her moan shamelessly. Her body began to tremble, vibrate almost, and she had to push him back before it became too much.

He made a growl of disapproval at her actions, but Emma quickly stripped off her shirt and bra. She was going for her belt buckle when Jefferson was back to touching her, having abandoned his own slightly Edwardian clothing while she was busy with hers. Emma planted hungry kisses along his bare chest, sucking happily at his collarbone and delighting in his groan when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, digging her nails into his back. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his fingers pressing so hard into her that she knew without a doubt she'd have five finger-shaped bruises there come morning. His other hand unbuckled her belt and undid her pants with the skill of someone who's done it dozens of times before. He pressed his palm against her heat and Emma's body began to vibrate again, pulsing minutely. The very floor began to tremble.

Emma rubbed her body against him, scraping her teeth along his pulse point, and Jefferson shucked out of his own pants. Emma whimpered at the feel of him--all of him--hot and hard and bare against her own tender, burning skin. It was like the entire upper layer of her skin was going to melt off from her body heat alone, never mind his. She was completely wrapped up in him, not entirely sure that they hadn't fused together into one euphoric being.

Jefferson buried a hand in her hair and tugged, gently but just hard enough to make her whine a little, angling her head so that he could dip his and plunder her mouth, his tongue completely invading her. It was seductive but harsh, a little edgy, like a welcoming madness, wrong but feeling right. It felt like he was pouring electricity into her, feeding her tiny bits of ecstasy (the feeling, not the drug), transferring it from his tongue to hers with every slide and scrape, and she couldn't help but swallow it, consume it, absorb it into her bloodstream. She was trembling almost violently now, and she wasn't entirely sure that the house wasn't moving along with her.

"Bed…" She gasped as she inhaled. "Bed, we gotta… oh  _fuck_ … bed, Jefferson,  _now_."

He didn't respond verbally but hauled her up into his arms, pushing her up so that she ground against his body as she was lifted. This put her ass in his hands and her breasts at his face, which might explain why it took them fifteen minutes to get upstairs. When they finally did crash into bed, they attacked each other like savage wolves, biting and tugging at each other's lips, arching their bodies and humping despite the fact that no actual penetration had happened yet.

This was a huge oversight, in Emma's mind.

"Jefferson…"

He ignored her because at the moment her navel was infinity more fascinating. He loved feeling the well-defined muscles jump against his mouth when he ran his tongue over her skin, nipping once or twice, and then blowing cool air across the area, making her writhe.

"Jefferson!"

He slithered back up her body, capturing her lips between his once more. "Yes?" He asked when they broke apart for air.

"You…" They continued to kiss sloppily in between each word she pushed out. "In… Me… the sooner… the better."

"Like now?" He teased.

Emma growled.

Jefferson raised himself up a little, his eyes latching onto hers. He loved to watch her pupils blow up, expanding like a kaleidoscope as he sheathed himself in her. Her limbs flew up, almost of their own accord, and wrapped themselves around him in a sensuous vice, trapping him and threatening to never let him go.

Out of all the threats he'd received over the years, this was definitely one he hoped would be carried out.

The very foundations seemed to shudder as he began to move, Emma countering his movements with some of her own, their rhythms their own but somehow managing to come together and work in harmony. It was pounding and violent but in the softest, sweetest way, painful in the amount of pleasure it dealt out. It was almost more than she could handle, but she held back her screams until the absolute last second, knowing the release would be all the sweeter for having had patience.

They were shaking, trembling, quivering almost to the point where they couldn't control themselves anymore, their breathing disjointed and their movement choppy. The entire world was moving with them, quaking and shifting, a veritable merry-go-round as colors and sounds and a thousand other sensations whirled them around, tossing and turning their minds like Alice's fall down the rabbit hole to Wonderland…

And then it all froze for one crystal clear, glorious second as Emma screamed, feeling Jefferson's body stiffen and give a final shudder before he bit her shoulder savagely, nearly drawing blood as he rode out his release along with her. Her voice always managed to undo him.

Everything jolted to a halt, the various feelings tingeing the air crashing down around them as it all hit the brakes, a cacophony of physical impressions.

When she finally came to--it literally felt like she had blacked out, only blacking out wasn't nearly so pleasant--Emma just had to huff at Jefferson's amused grin.

"What happened this time?" She asked.

"You sent the dishes in the kitchen flying out of the cupboards. And that picture over the mantelpiece fell," he said, crawling back into bed with her.

Emma groaned.  _That_  was going to take some clean up--and some explaining.

"I'm serious, you have to work more on controlling your magic," Jefferson reminded her for the hundred and thirty-third time.

"Well it doesn't help that every time we try we end up humping like bunnies," Emma mumbled.

So, yes, there was one more reason the kids couldn't be around when they had sex.

Emma tended to start minor earthquakes.

But hey--it was a small price to pay for mind-blowing sex, right?

…right?


End file.
